


Reboot

by Tyrux



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Family, Gen, Gender-Neutral Chara (Undertale), Gender-Neutral Frisk (Undertale), Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Selectively Mute Frisk (Undertale), Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 17:29:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20586296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyrux/pseuds/Tyrux
Summary: So,where are we off to on this special day?'Mt. Ebott,'Frisk replies, and hurries along before you can get a word in.'I left something behind, and Papyrus is rallying everyone for your surprise party so I'm the distraction.'Chara takes a walk down memory lane.





	Reboot

You awaken to the sharp tang of fresh hot chocolate, and the low murmurings of a train on its way.

_'Happy birthday, Chara.'_ Frisk signs with one hand.

You don't respond for a moment, relishing the warm drink as you claw your way back to consciousness. You're fairly certain the two of you didn't fall asleep on a train, at any rate.

_So,_ you begin, and you think you and Frisk might've traded places for a moment there because they rub their eyes and sit up a little straighter. _Where are we off to on this special day?_

_'Mt. Ebott,' _they reply, and hurry along before you can get a word in. _'I left something behind, and Papyrus is rallying everyone for your surprise party so I'm the distraction.'_

You snort, and they must take that as a good sign because they smile and lean back a little into the cushion. _Funny. I don't remember telling anyone my birthday._

Frisk shrugs a bit. _'M__om's making triple-decker chocolate, so no complaining!'_

You give the mental approximation of a grin, and they smile back.

You also decide not to mention they only sign to you when they're nervous, or hiding something. But Frisk doesn't have a harmful bone in their body, so you're content to let sleeping dogs lie _(heh)_ as the mountain grows larger on the horizon.

* * *

Flowers are absolutely spewing from where the Barrier once stood, rolling down the mountainside like great golden waves, finally enjoying true sunlight again. You feel sort of happy for them.

Nearly a year of abandonment hasn't done the underground many favors, though. The towering gray architecture of New Home is downright ominous in the silence, and that unsettling air remains well into Hotland. The last of the monsters emerged some time ago. Frisk takes you right up to the river, where a lone boat and oar rest along the bank. They delicately step onto the smooth wooden surface, before picking up the oar and half-heartedly running it through the water.

_Do you have any idea how to actually drive this thing?_ you ask, eyebrows raised.

They pull their face into a pout and stare at the oar sullenly. _'The river person makes this look easy.'_

That's enough to get you to force a laugh through their mouth, and before long it becomes their laugh too.

_Don't worry,_ you assure them, _me and- I, I borrowed the boat once._

You use the oar to push off from the shoreline, and neither of you speak for the rest of the ride.

* * *

You tune out for awhile, because Snowdin is _cold_ and that hot chocolate is long gone. By the time you're back, Frisk is leaning up against a stone wall, rubbing their fingers through the petals of a golden flower.

_Frisk,_ you say with a start, _what exactly are you looking f-_

"FLOWEY!" they shout, and clearly they're still not used to it because their voice cracks off into a whimper half-way through, leaving them to pat their throat a few times.

Your thoughts freeze up, and that's really all you have now so by the time you're up and running again Frisk has already called his name a few times into the shadows of the Ruins.

_Frisk, what the he-, what the heck are you doing?_ you demand, and you're thinking maybe this impromptu trip should've worried you a little more because they ignore you and keep calling.

_Frisk, stop, he doesn't care and he can't c-_

"Howdy!"

Frisk turns around and smiles at the small golden flower that's sprouted up behind them. You wonder if he's ever managed to make the faux-enthusiasm in his greeting sound genuine.

_'Hi Flowey!'_ they sign, and you think he relaxes a little at the use of that stupid name.

"Golly, did you just come around for a chat?" he asks with a grin. "It's not like someone asked you to forget about me and never come back!"

Nevermind.

_'I missed you. I brought a present.'_

"You SHOULDN'T have," he growls through his teeth. Frisk bends down, turning their back to Flowey as they unzip their backpack. They reach inside, and-

_No._ you say immediately.

Frisk turns around, and Flowey's eyes widen for a moment before settling into a tired grimace as they rest upon the brightly colored pot in Frisk's hands.

"No."

_Frisk, stop. What are you doing? He can't FEEL anything._

Frisk sits down and sets the pot gently upon the earth. _'I won't tell anyone. You don't have to tell anyone.'_

He sighs. "Frisk, stop. What are you doing? You know I can't feel ANYTHING."

_'I miss you, and I-'_ they pause for a moment, letting their hands rest in their lap. _'I don't want to leave anyone down here. I got this soil from Dad's garden on the surface, and we can go up there together and play the new Super Smash Bros. and-' _You're not sure if you started pacing or if they did, but it was definitely one of you. The pot waits impatiently on the ground.

"Wow. Hah." he chuckles. "This song and dance again? You really ARE an idiot."

Spiked vines spew out from him in droves, boxing you in like a steel cage. You're reminded of another time, unable to run, unable to act, unable to FIGHT.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but remembering how it feels to feel only does so much! Thanks for bringing your SOUL all the way down just for little old me! Oh, don't you worry, I'll make it up to you! When I head up to the surface like you asked, I'll kill Mom and Dad LAST."

Frisk is crying. You can't cry too, you won't. One of you needs to stay strong.

"Although," he continues with that stupid little pout, "Smiley Trashbag there might throw a wrench in that plan. I'm sure I'll get him this time, though. After all, you'll be right there with me! You've got hands-on experience, don't you?"

It’s too much, you can’t take this anymore, you can't let them take this anymore, you can’t see your brother like _this. _

_ “Leave Frisk the _ ** _FUCK_ ** _ alone, Asriel.” _

The change is instantaneous, his beady eyes widen and his petals furl in as if he’s been struck. The vines wilt away instantly.

“Chara?” he whispers in that soft, impossibly small voice. You know what you just called him, but this is too much, it’s just _ too much _ Asriel, such a stark contrast compared to the spitting demon you saw moments before. Frisk is trying to say something, but everything else is slipping away into monochromatic gray fog - sensations, sounds, sympathies. It’s just you and Asriel, and you realize you never stopped moving when you’re kneeling down to face the golden flower.

“So, you really were in there,” he grins. “I gotta say-”

You can’t listen to him talk, so you cut him off. _ “You’re an idiot. Even **you**_ _ don’t remember everything. If I _ **_ever_** _ see you again, I will rip you out of the earth with my bare hands and chop your petals off one by one. I’ve done it before, don’t you _ **_dare_** _ think I won’t do it again.” _

He doesn’t cry, he doesn’t try any cheap imitations, he just looks at you. _ It’s your turn, _ you think, _ get on with it. _

“Okay.” he murmurs, and then he’s gone.

You’re breathing hard now, or maybe Frisk is. Colors begin to fade back into view, but everything feels sort of distant, like you’re not really there anymore. It’s only when you collapse to the ground and reach out to catch yourself that you realize you were holding a knife - were still holding a knife, until it wisps away like dust.

_ “Azzy! Azzy!” you laugh, sprinting down the hallway and turning into your bedroom. He’s lying face forward on his bed - drawing a new move for the God of Hyperdeath or something dumb like that, probably. _

_ “I figured it out, I knew I could use magic, look!” you exclaim impatiently, waving your accomplishment through the air. "About time, right?” _

_ Asriel glances up, eyes wide in wonder. “But didn’t you say everyone on the surface had forgotten h-” he freezes, mouth catching up with the rest of his face as his jaw drops. _

_ “Chara! That’s a KNIFE!” _

_ “I know, isn’t it cool?” you grin. "And look, check this out." You twirl through the room, socks sliding on hardwood floor as you land on your half of the room. The knife is a stark crimson, edges rippling as if it's not entirely sure of its own limits. Actually holding it is an altogether bizarre sensation, too frail to feel real but too warm to possibly be fake. _

_ With a flourish, you bring the knife down hard, slicing clean through both the flower on your nightstand and the vase containing it. The fiber sizzles as the red energy carves through it, but the vase shatters immediately. Bits of glass cascade through the air, and a soft trickle of heat indicates where a shard nicked your cheek. You didn’t mean to break the vase, really. Mom might be upset, but there are lots of vases. _

_ The flower, on the other hand. It wasn't golden, but Dad spent enough time searching for something that looked alike down here, just for you, that you think you might regret this later. _

_ Asriel looks a little spooked from his perch, and that’s no good so you wipe your cheek on your sleeve and hop onto the bed next to him. “Try to beat _ that _ kind of power, Asriel!” you giggle, yanking gently on a floppy ear. _

_ You think he might be a little starstruck, until he scrunches up his face in determination and pulls back, grabbing the sheet of paper he was bent over. “Oh yeah? Well, I bet your magic can’t beat THIS!” He shoves the piece of paper at you, some sort of exaggerated boss monster skull with its mouth wide open. Stars and little bits of streaks of rainbow are added for effect. _

_ “It’s called HYPER GONER and it’s my strongest move! It sucks in EVERYTHING around it and takes them down to 1 HP INSTANTLY and then it SHOOTS LASERS! And STARS! LASERSTARS!” _

_ You raise an eyebrow questioningly. “1 HP? Why not just kill them then?” _

_ Asriel pouts. “The God of Hyperdeath is the savior of monsterkind, he doesn’t kill. If they're really mean you just weaken them until they can’t fight anymore, and then you make friends and eat butts pie!” _

_ “Chara?! Asriel! Are you two alright?” a worried voice calls from the living room. _

_ She’s definitely going to be upset with you, but you can’t stop laughing. _

You can’t stop laughing.

You relinquish control and slink away into the darkest crevices of your shared headspace. Warm sympathy floods in from Frisk as they wrap their arms around their legs, and begin to murmur something like “I’m sorry”, over and over. You’re not really sure why. This is your fault. It always is.

_ I'm a monster, _ and you’re too tired to laugh at how much you wish that was true.

**Author's Note:**

> Title based on the [Undertale arrangement of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pm3myo0dViM) by Karasu.
> 
> This is actually a segment of a larger project I'm working on, but I like to dip my feet in the water with something short that can be enjoyed on its own before really going for it with a new franchise (I say, as someone who has written for only one other game). Hopefully that'll be finished by Undertale's anniversary (no promises), but I thought posting this on Chara's sorta-birthday felt appropriate.


End file.
